


I can’t love you in the dark

by justhockey



Series: Quiet the mind and the soul will speak [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Buck Has Bad Parents, Buck is a Good Dad, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Evan "Buck" Buckley, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:29:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: Evan doesn’t do anything quietly.Except, maybe, love Eddie.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Quiet the mind and the soul will speak [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688362
Comments: 34
Kudos: 1067





	I can’t love you in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Love In The Dark_ by Adele.

Evan Buckley doesn’t do anything by halves. He’s loud and he’s brash in everything that he does. He can’t wash the dishes without clanking them together, can’t sit in a quiet room for more than a few minutes without breaking the silence. He couldn’t keep all of the energy inside him to save his life. 

So. Evan doesn’t do anything quietly. 

Except, maybe, love Eddie. 

Buck loves Eddie from afar. Loves him with longing glances and shoulder nudges, loves him with laughter and teasing, loves him with every part of himself. But Buck keeps it tucked quietly away in a far corner of his heart, too afraid to show _anyone_ , let alone Eddie, just how gentle he can be. Vulnerability is a weakness - he’d had it drilled into him since was a child by a father who used his fists more than his words. He couldn’t show it, couldn’t let people use it against him. So he kept quiet for the first time since he was a frightened child, too afraid of his father’s fists and vicious temper. 

Eddie Diaz is a quiet kind of powerful. The volume had maybe been turned up for a while after the court case and the street fighting, but it was back down to a gentle hum now. He was powerful when kicking down doors and running into burning buildings, but he was also powerful when he laughed with his son, when he carried him to bed at night, when he used all of his strength to make Christopher feel brave. 

And that was the Eddie that Buck had fallen in love with. The power he had on the job was incredible, but the one he had outside of work, with his son, that was intoxicating. 

Buck doesn’t remember exactly when it was that he fell in love with Eddie, thinks it probably started the moment they stepped into that ambulance together without knowing if they were going to step out again, but it was most certainly because of the way he loved his son, and the way Buck found himself longing to be a part of that family in any way that Eddie and Christopher would have him. 

So it was enough, whatever Eddie was willing to give him. It was more than Buck ever thought he would be able to have, the closest thing to a real family he’d ever known, aside from Maddie. He relished in the evenings spent squashed on the couch with Christopher and Eddie, a movie playing on the tv or an intense game of Mario Kart unfolding before his eyes. 

It would hit him in moments like that, how truly lucky he was to have them in his life. It was an ache deep in his bones, the good kind mostly, except. Sometimes he’d feel a pang of longing and his insides would twist as he watched Eddie laughing with Chris. It always made Buck mad at himself, he should be grateful for what he’s got and never want for more, but still. It hurt sometimes, that as much as Buck knew Eddie loved him, it wasn’t in the way he so desperately wanted. 

And Buck doesn’t do anything quietly, not even hurt. So those moments feel like a lightning strike, all angry and sharp edges and white-hot pain. He never got to have a real family as a kid, and he won’t get to have it as an adult, because his heart belongs to Eddie and Christopher, but they will never belong to him. 

The agony always passes though, it’s hard to hurt when Christopher leans against Buck and asks if he’ll read them a bedtime story. 

It’s enough, whatever they’re willing to let him have. 

***

They’ve been working together for long enough now that Buck can usually anticipate Eddie’s moves, know what he’s going to do before he does it so Buck is already where he needs to be to help out. There’s almost an ease about the way they work together. 

And obviously it’s similar with the rest of the team to an extent, but it’s just not quite the same. All they need is a glance, a nod of the head, and they know what the plan is, what they’re going to do and how they’re going to do it, without ever even uttering a word. Buck likes it that way, the fact that he knows Eddie well enough to read his eyes. It makes them a pretty formidable team. 

But it doesn’t matter how long they’ve been working together for, Buck still worries about Eddie every single second they’re on a job. Because it’s different for him than everyone else. Sure, Hen has Karen and Denny, Bobby has Athena and the kids, and Chim has Maddie. But Eddie is _all_ that Christopher has, there’s no one to pick up the pieces if Eddie doesn’t make it home, so Buck views it as his own personal mission to get Eddie home safely after every shift.

It’s a relatively routine call. 

A man is screaming incoherently as a police officer holds him back from running into his burning home, and his neighbours watch in horror, sleep rumpled and still dressed in their pyjamas. Buck’s heart starts to race, the adrenaline kicking in like it does every time they have to run into the fire while everyone else is running away from it. 

“My babies, they’re still inside,” the man screams desperately as they approach the house. 

“Can you tell us how many people are inside the house and where they are?” Bobby asks, sounding calm and measured, always the voice of reason. 

“Two, my kids, they’re upstairs in their bedrooms,” the man says, no longer shouting but instead crying. 

Buck glances towards Eddie and he gets a half smile and a nod as they begin to fasten their masks to their faces without Bobby even having to ask. 

Bobby gives them their instructions: get in, get the kids, get out. 

Eddie reaches out a fist to Buck and they tap their gloved knuckles together before they head inside the house. 

The entire ground floor is completely consumed by flames, and they’re quickly starting to eat away at the staircase they need to use to get back out. Buck starts the climb up the stairs with Eddie hot on his heels. The smoke is black, and so thick that Buck can barely see more than a few feet in front of him, but it’s nothing if not familiar, and it’s not lost on him that he feels more sure of himself in a burning building than he does in any other aspect of his life. 

“I’m going right,” Eddie’s voice crackles through the radio, the roar of the flames making it too loud for Buck to hear him any other way. 

“Got it, I’ll head left.”

“Hurry it up in there, boys,” Bobby says, but neither of them have the time to respond. 

It takes Buck no more than a minute or two to find the little girl cowering in the far corner of her bedroom. She’s only wearing a night dress so Buck wraps a blanket around her tiny body, then slips his mask off and pulls it over her head before collecting her in his arms. He’s been warned to stop doing that, but it goes against every instinct he has to carry someone through smoke and flames without something to help them breathe. So, like he often does, Buck ignores the rules. 

“Got the girl, I’m heading back down,” he radios through to Bobby. 

The flames are practically licking at his shins when Buck races back down the stairs, the girl curled tightly into his chest.

Alarm bells start to ring when he doesn’t immediately hear a response from Eddie. He’d go back up to check on him and the boy if he could, if it wasn’t for the crying girl and the terrified dad waiting outside for his children. But he can’t, so he stumbles blindly through the haze of smoke and towards the square of light that must be the open door. 

He’s barely stepped outside the house before Hen and Chimney are on him. Hen tugs the child from his arms to check her out in the ambulance while Chim grabs a hold of Buck’s arm to steer him towards the truck and give him a once over. Buck turns back to the burning house, but there’s still no sign of Eddie. 

And he’s trying not to panic, he really is, because Eddie is good at his job. But he should have been right behind Buck, and he can’t help the fear that crawls up the back of his throat. 

He can hear Bobby speaking into the radio, and he can see the worry set into hard lines on his face when, again, there’s no response from Eddie. Chim has a stethoscope to Buck’s chest and is asking him to breathe deeply but Buck isn’t interested. He carefully pushes Chimney’s hand away and stands up, ignoring his protests (and the burning in his lungs) as he jogs back over to the captain. 

“Bobby?” Buck says nervously. “Let me go back in for him.”

“Not happening, Buckley,” the captain says, and Buck knows he shouldn’t argue, but. 

“Cap. Please. Let me go back in for him.”

The look Bobby gives him is knowing but he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed, the house is going up in flames and Eddie still hasn’t come out, isn’t even responding. But just as Buck is about to ignore his captain’s orders, there’s a yell from the homeowner. 

He feels his knees shake - is surprised they don’t give out beneath him - when Eddie finally steps out of the house, the boy clinging tightly to him. A wave of sickly relief washes over Buck as he watches Eddie hand the kid to Chimney and wave off the need for any medical attention. Buck swallows down the urge to throw his arms around Eddie as he approaches him and Bobby. 

“I’m so sorry Captain, my radio stopped working,” Eddie explains breathlessly while he pushes his sweat soaked hair off his forehead. 

“What took you so long?” Buck asks. 

He’s trying to tease him, to make a joke and break the air of tension around them, but it misses its mark when Buck’s voice trembles. 

Eddie smiles, “I didn’t know if you’d made it out so I wanted to check.”

And, well. Buck tells himself it’s the smoke in his lungs that’s making it difficult to breathe. 

The sky is just starting to lighten when they get back to the station, but the sun is still sleeping. Buck kind of wishes he was too. It’s not often he’d rather be at home than at work, but it had been way too close for comfort with Eddie and the kid, and he can’t stop thinking about the fact that Eddie had gone back to check Buck had made it out. He’s torn between feeling guilty that he was the reason Eddie was in danger, and touched that Eddie cares that much about him. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Buck says.

They’re alone in the locker room and Buck sits down on the bench beside Eddie. Without realising it his leg starts to bounce, half nervous, half habit.

“Done what?” Eddie asks as he leans down to untie his boots. 

“You know what,” Buck replies.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head, and god Buck is so in love with that sound he wants to scream. 

“I really don’t, bud.”

And when Buck meets Eddie’s eye he realises he’s telling the truth. It wasn’t even a conscious decision for Eddie to go back for Buck, he’d just done it instinctively and hadn’t given it a second thought since. But that’s exactly the kind of guy Buck knows Eddie is: absolutely, unflinchingly selfless. 

“Gone to check that I made it out,” Buck clarifies. 

Eddie frowns a little and chews on his lower lip as he thinks. Buck wants to reach out and pull Eddie’s lip from between his teeth, kiss where it’s angry and red from all the times that he bites at it. Instead he breaks eye contact and clears his throat, just for something to do. 

“I didn’t know you were already out.”

It’s Buck’s turn to frown, “Yeah but you should have got out as soon as you got the kid.”

Eddie laughs again, but it’s subdued this time, “I wasn’t gonna leave you, buddy.”

It’s another one of those moments, the bone deep ache that demands Buck pay attention to how lucky he is to have Eddie in his life, to have him as his best friend. But it’s also tarred with the twisting in his gut, because Buck loves him so much and Eddie had just risked his life for him so he has no right to want more, it’s too selfish. 

“Just - just don’t next time, okay? Please.”

He’s not sure what Eddie is thinking, but Buck doesn’t like the look that crosses his face when the words leave his mouth. 

Eddie rests his hand on Buck’s knee to stop his leg from bouncing and smiles so softly that Buck wants to cry. 

“Hey, we’ve got each other’s backs, remember?”

***

It’s Eddie’s turn to host family night, where the team and their families get together one night every month to just laugh and be together and decompress. It had started after Buck’s accident as a way to keep him involved with the team and they had just never stopped. They all needed it, it was like taking a deep breath and just exhaling all of the bad calls and the stress of the prior month. 

It’s finally starting to wind down, and only Buck, Maddie, and Chim are left at Eddie’s house. Just as Maddie and Chimney say their goodbyes and leave, Christopher makes his way into the living room and crawls onto Buck’s lap. He instinctively wraps his arms around Chris and kisses the top of his head. 

He’s lucky he misses the way Eddie smiles while watching them, or he would probably forget how to breathe. 

“Hey little man.”

“Hey Bucky,” Christopher says. 

“Have you had fun tonight?”

“I always have fun with you,” Chris says so genuinely, and Buck feels his heart soar. 

He can’t stop himself from looking around to seek out Eddie, who is already watching the exchange. In the moment Buck feels so much like part of their family that the grin he’s wearing causes his cheeks to ache. 

“I always have fun with you too, buddy.”

“You’re my best friend,” Christopher tells him, resting a gentle hand on Buck’s cheek. 

“You’re my best friend too,” Buck says.

His heart is so filled with fondness he can barely contain it. He would do anything for the kid spread out across his lap, would be anyone Chris needed him to be. And it’s strange because Buck had never wanted children, he had always been scared that he would end up just like his own father, but Christopher feels like his. He loves him more than he ever thought it was possible for one person to feel, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would lay down his life Christopher without a seconds hesitation. 

It’s a lot. It’s a big feeling that Buck isn’t sure what exactly he’s supposed to do with. But the fear is worth it. And the hollowness he sometimes feels when he’s reminded that Eddie and Chris aren’t really _his_ is worth it too, if he gets to see Christopher’s toothy grin looking up at him and Eddie’s gentle smile as he watches their interaction. 

“Hey! What about me?” Eddie complains as he walks over to where Buck and Chris are sitting on the couch. 

Christopher laughs joyously and Buck feels his smile widen.

“Don’t worry dad,” Chris says, “Bucky still loves you most.”

Everything kind of just, stops. 

Buck holds his breath as he glances nervously at Eddie, who’s frozen with his eyes trained on Buck. Christopher, bless his sweet little heart, is none the wiser, and giggles into Buck’s chest like he hasn’t just dropped a nuclear bomb on their whole dynamic. 

And it’s not like Chris meant it that way, at least Buck doesn’t think he did, but he’s pretty sure that the expression on his face was a dead giveaway anyhow. He feels like he can’t breathe, and Buck isn’t one to blush but he can feel the heat starting to crawl up his neck. There’s a heaviness settling in his chest and the tips of his fingers are starting to tingle with anxiety the longer that the room remains uncomfortably silent. 

Buck has never been good with silence. 

“How about we get you to bed, trouble?” He says, ignoring the way his voice cracks. 

He tickles Christopher’s sides and lets out a shaky breath when he’s certain Chris’ laughter is loud enough to cover it. 

After a few more seconds Eddie snaps out of whatever kind of trance he’s in, and reaches to pluck Christopher off of Buck’s lap. Buck tries to ignore the way the tips of their fingers brush together as he hands Chris over to Eddie so he can take him up to bed. 

He fails. 

“Goodnight buddy, sweet dreams,” Buck calls out as Eddie carries Chris up the stairs and out of sight. 

He could leave, slip out of the door while Eddie is tucking Christopher in and reading him a bedtime story. But he’s not that much of a coward, and it would only make things worse in the long run. He knows this is something they’re going to have to talk about one way or another - even if they just laugh it off and chalk it down to Chris being young and naive - so it’s better to do it sooner rather than later. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t terrified though. He can hear their voices travelling from upstairs, and he feels sick at the thought of losing this, losing them. Eddie’s a good guy and the best friend he’s ever had. He’s always been able to handle Buck and how loud and energetic and how _much_ he can get, but this might just be _too_ much. 

His palms start to sweat as the voices from upstairs slowly fade, because he knows that means Eddie will be coming down soon, and he’s not ready to say goodbye to his best friend. 

He’s spent so long being loud about everything except his feelings, he’d tried so hard to keep them tucked neatly away where they couldn’t hurt anyone, but one harmless comment from Christopher and his facade folded and allowed Eddie to see the reality. 

Finally he hears footsteps on the stairs, and he’s not sure if he’s more relieved that the waiting is over, or terrified about what’s to come. 

He’s sitting on the couch, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees when Eddie walks back into the living room. 

It’s a mess, Buck can’t help but notice, after a having a house full of people all evening. It’s irrelevant really, but Buck finds that focusing on something concrete helps slow his mind down a little. So he stares at the stain on the rug from where Chim had dropped a slice of pizza earlier, because it’s something for his mind to think about as Eddie sits down beside him, a little closer than usual but still not touching. 

(Buck kind of hates himself for knowing how close they usually sit.)

“He’s asleep,” Eddie says. 

Which is nice, safe ground. 

Buck lets out a breath. 

“Good, that’s good.”

Eddie nods. “So did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it was great, yeah.”

It’s painfully awkward, stilted conversation, and Buck hates it more than anything. He and Eddie have been comfortable around each other since almost the beginning, it’s more or less always come easy and natural to them, and having no idea what to say to each other kind of makes him want to cry. 

“Buck-“ Eddie starts, but it’s like he doesn’t know how to finish.

Buck turns his head to look at Eddie, and smiles sadly. 

“Listen, what Christopher said-“

“I’m sorry,” Buck interrupts. 

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

Eddie toys at his bottom lip with his teeth again. 

“What for?”

Buck just shrugs, because he doesn’t know what he wants to say or how he needs to say it, it just feels like something he has to apologise for. 

“Talk to me, man,” Eddie pushes, leaning forward and mirroring Buck’s position. 

Buck plays nervously with his fingers. His heart is in his mouth and his jaw is starting to ache with how hard he’s tensing it, just to keep the tears at bay. 

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I’m a lot to put up with, and this is just too much. I get that.” 

And he know it sounds self-deprecating, like he’s fishing for sympathy or something, but he’s not, it’s just truly how he feels. He’s been told by just about everyone in his life that he’s too much to deal with, and Eddie doesn’t need to put up with that from him. 

“Buck, hey, Buck,” Eddie says, placing a hand on his knee to stop the bouncing yet again. “What are you saying?”

Eddie’s voice is gravelly and low and Buck has to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes to stop himself from crying, or kissing Eddie, or something. 

“He was right. I do, uh, love you,” Buck says. “I mean, I love him more, but you’re a close second,” he tries to joke, but it falls flat. 

The air is heavy and he just wants to run away, hide under his bed with Maddie like they used to when they were kids and the world got too big and scary. He doesn’t get to hide anymore though. In fact, with Eddie looking at him the way he is, Buck feels more _seen_ now than he has in his entire life. 

“You love me,” Eddie states, and it sounds more like a statement than a question. 

“Yeah,” Buck confirms. “Sorry.”

Eddie makes a sound of indignation in the back of his throat. “Why would you ever apologise for that?”

Buck shrugs again. 

“You don’t need that. You don’t _want_ that. And, I don’t know, it’s not like I’m your family.”

And that seems to be the trigger, because before he knows it, Eddie’s hands are holding either side of Buck’s face and he’s forcing him to look him the eye. 

“ _Buck_ ,” Eddie sighs. “You _are_ our family. Christopher adores you, _I_ adore you.”

Buck can’t believe it, he won’t _let_ himself believe it, because it has to be too good to be true. Eddie can’t love him back, he doesn’t deserve it.

“I, Eddie, what?” He stutters over his words, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

The expression that crosses Eddie’s face could only ever be described as fond exasperation. 

And then, as if in slow motion, he leans closer and closer, until their lips are pressed together in the most exquisite kiss. Buck can’t help the whimper that slips past his lips, but Eddie swallows it down as their lips move together in the most tender, gentle kiss Buck has ever had. 

“I love you, stupid. Of course I do,” Eddie murmurs, their lips still touching. 

“You love me.”

“Always Buck, I have done since forever,” Eddie confesses, leaning back to look at Buck and letting his hands rest on his neck. 

“Oh,” Buck whispers. 

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, _oh_ , you idiot,” he says fondly. “You should have told me.”

“Didn’t wanna ruin this, you guys are too important to me,” Buck explains as he reaches up to pull Eddie’s hands away from his neck so he can hold them tightly. 

“You couldn’t lose us if you tried,” Eddie promises. 

“I don’t love quietly, Eddie. I’m affectionate and needy, and when I love someone, I’m all in,” Buck warns, as if Eddie doesn’t already know all of that and still love him anyway. 

“Sounds perfect to me.”

***

Buck loves Eddie a little louder from then on. 

He loves him with a quick kiss in the station before they head out on a call, he loves him with an arm around his waist or a hand tangled in his hair. He loves him by telling the team embarrassing stories, and holding his hand in the grocery store, and going to Christopher’s parent-teacher conferences. 

And he still gets that ache right down to his bones because _god_ , he’s so lucky to have Eddie and Christopher in his life, but this time there’s no bitter aftertaste, because they _are_ his family, they always were, really. 

But being with Eddie helps Buck learn that there is power in the quiet, too. That to love gently is not to love less. 

That sometimes the best kind of love is lazy Sunday mornings in bed, the sun shining through the curtains and their son asleep in the next room, not saying a word but still knowing what the other means. 

Buck enjoys the peace and quiet.


End file.
